


Love is Blind

by SuddenlySullen



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), DCU
Genre: Dark Knight Joker, Domestic Violence, Graphic Description, Rape, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 16:25:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14980988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuddenlySullen/pseuds/SuddenlySullen
Summary: Harley has run out on him for the last time.





	Love is Blind

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: All of the things. Seriously. Do not read if you find any sort of descriptions of violence, especially sexual violence to be triggering. If you think it might be triggering, just don't read it. Please put yourselves first, y'all.
> 
> This is written in an attempt to portray a canon-typical Joker/Harley relationship from the Dark Knight series. It is not for the faint of heart. Depending on how this goes, there may be more in a series that happen in the rest of the universe and involving other characters. For now, this is able to stand alone.

“Harley, Harley, Harley… How did we get here, hm?”

 

She could hear the shaking in his voice as he tried to maintain his false aura of malignant indifference. The way his nostrils flared told her just how badly she had screwed up this time. It wasn’t the first time. Or the second. Or the third. Something about Ivy kept drawing her back in. Every time he found her he got more and more furious. The first few times he had simply slapped her around a little. That, she was used to. Last time, he had carved his ownership of her into her flesh. The scars had hardly healed over before she was back in bed with her mistress. Now, he had her strapped to a metal table in what looked like a dentist’s office to her. 

 

He could feel himself shaking with rage. As much as he enjoyed hurting her, he did not enjoy having a reason to hurt her. The story he had gotten from the whelps that had actually found her seemed to be missing some key details about what state she had been in when they got there, which let his imagination take care of the rest. He toyed with his knife as he wandered around the room, trying to keep himself calm enough to not just kill her on the spot.

 

Her eyes strained to follow him as he paced around her, barely within her field of vision. His hands shook as he twisted his knife into his own palm, growling and tossing it away when it didn’t give him whatever it was he wanted from it. The clanging sound of metal as things outside her vision fell caused her to jerk slightly against the leather restraints. 

 

His attention focused back on her and he slammed his hands down next to her head. Something in his eyes wasn’t right. Where she could usually see some humanity left, she saw only darkness and for the first time since they had met, she was truly afraid of him. Tears streaked down her face as she choked out apologies and promises he had heard a thousand times before. 

 

When he looked down at her he could see the terror in her bright blue eyes. Her pupils were blown out wide, almost hiding the blue in them. The tears rolling down her face made her already-streaky makeup even more so. From what he had heard, there had been quite the ruckus when his boys had gone to pick her up. The plant-bitch had kissed at least two of them which, under normal circumstances, would have been a minor inconvenience, but today it was especially bothersome. 

 

“What ever shall I do with you, my dear girl?” He asked, turning his attention back to his Harley.

 

He stroked her cheek, wiping her tears away and then licking them from his hand. Her makeup was almost unrecognizable. Between sweat, tears, and both her lovers’ hands on it there was almost no hope that it remained intact. Internally she scolded herself for thinking of her makeup at a time like this, but she reasoned that if she were going to be found dead somewhere she’d like for someone to know who she was when they found her. She could at least hope for that. At this point in her life, it seemed like there wasn’t much else left to hope for but a dignified death.

 

“Don’t look so scared, dollface,” his voice feigned a softness that she didn’t dare trust.

 

“Please, Mistah J,” she sobbed, “won’t happen again. Promise. Pinky swear and everythin’.”

 

Throwing his head back he laughed at her for what felt like an eternity. The sound rang in her ears like gunshots; a sound she had grown all too familiar with. She shook against the cold metal as her body tried to contract on itself to contain her sobs. The metal table rattled noisily against the floor, adding to the unsettling ambience of the room. As he regained his breath the smile faded from his face and was replaced with a glare of contempt that made her wish he was still laughing at her.

 

“Come on now, Harley. You’re smarter than this,” he dragged his hand through her hair as he spoke, “You know I can’t just stand by and let this happen. People will talk!” His words said he only cared what people thought of him, but his angry tone only thinly veiled the hurt behind them. He hoped to himself that she was scared enough to not be able to tell.

 

Almost instinctively, her head turned into his touch. As much as she was afraid of him she craved him even more. The slightest gentle stroke of his hand was enough to have her melting for him. Every time she tried to leave, she always came back because for some sick reason she needed him. She knew he needed her, too. He would never tell her that, of course, but there was a reason he always came back for her. He could have left her to rot in a cell in Arkham after he had what he wanted from her, but he didn’t. He came back. Just like he always would; He came back.

 

A satisfied smile spread across his face. For all of her many faults, his girl would always come back to him. No matter what he did to her, she would always he his girl. He made her; Stripped her of everything she thought mattered in life and rebuilt her from the ashes with only one thing left to keep her going: him. Now there was no way she could go on without him. That is, until firecrotch came along and put ideas in her head about not needing him. 

 

Harley was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of a sharp tapping on the door. The Joker walked away from her, thanked whoever it was, shot him, and walked back with a jar in his hands. He set it down behind him where she couldn’t see it, which left her thinking of all the awful things it could be: Embalming fluid for after he killed her, rats so he could feed them to her, eyeballs - also for forcing her to eat, spiders to bite her all over…

 

He saw in her eyes that her thoughts were wandering again while he had been arranging their toys for the evening. He imagined that she must be going even crazier thinking about what he could possibly be planning to do with her, but this wasn’t the time for that. For this to be fun he needed all her attention on him.

 

“Hellooooo, Earth to Harley,” his singsong voice ripped her out of her own head once more, “Nice to have you back, baby girl.”

 

His familiar grin was still plastered across his face, yellow teeth bared as he looked straight down at her. She tried to turn her head away, to look at anything but him, but there was only so much a girl could move with her head strapped to a table. Instead, she focused on his eyes, searching for any small piece of his humanity that might still be there. 

 

A slight twinge of something in his chest when she looked away from him reminded him that somewhere inside she still might think he was some kind of uncontrolled monster. After all their time together, she still really had no idea what made him tick. 

 

“Now, Harley, why so serious? We’re here to have fun!”

 

“This ain’t fun anymore, Mistah J,” her voice shook and she braced herself for the inevitable pain that came with talking back to him, but it never came. Instead, he just laughed that same stomach-churning laugh.

 

“Oh, honey, we’re just getting started.”

 

He planted an exaggerated kiss on her forehead and pulled a knife from his coat. With a few well placed slices her ruffled clothing fell away, leaving her shivering and bare under his gaze. He took a moment to admire her. Her bones were starting to protrude, reminding him that they really ought to eat more than candy. Almost sensually, he dragged the dull edge of the knife over her skin, watching the goosebumps flare up across her body in its wake. The way she shivered at his touch reminded him of the first time he had threatened her life. Coincidentally, that was also the first time he had fucked her. Her fingernails carved crescents into her palms, still waiting for the pain he was going to inflict on her for her sass. 

 

“Puddin’, please. I’ll be good this time. We were just sayin’ bye is all.”

 

“Shh, Shh, Shh. Listen to me, Harley-girl. This is about more than just your little green plaything. Oh no. We need to remind the whole world where exactly it is you belong.”

 

“You’re talking crazy, Mistah J. Lemme up and we can talk about it.”

 

His temper flared. How dare she try to imply that she could possibly understand him? Once again his hands slammed down onto the table, “Ah ah ah ah ah - That’s not how this works anymore, sweet cheeks. You had your chance to fix me up. Remember how that went?”

 

Her mind wandered back to the first time she had seen him. They had been dragging him through the halls at Arkham. His cackling echoed through the halls, stirring up the other inmates and threatening to incite a riot. A guard had pushed her back against the wall as he was brought by, but that didn’t stop them from making eye contact. His story, or lack thereof, fascinated her and she was enamored with him from that moment on.

 

As they were talking, he noticed a smeared lipstick mark on her neck. His face felt hot with rage and the rest of him felt like he needed to scratch himself out of his own skin. On days like this, he hated that she had so much power over him. Without knowing it, she unraveled what little bit of himself he had left. That single lipstick mark was undeniable physical evidence of where she had been and what she had been doing there. If the idea of it made him angry, the sight of it made him absolutely homicidal.

 

“Pay attention here, Harls,” he shouted, slapping her across the face, “We’re about to make things very very interesting.”

 

She heard water turn on somewhere in the room and movement around her. When she saw him again, he was holding a bucket and came to stand next to her head once more. With a smirk, he poured the freezing cold water over her face. She felt like she was drowning, but only for a moment. She shivered and saw her makeup pooling around her. Now she was just little Doctor Quinzel, kidnapped and strapped to a table by one of her psychopathic patients. 

 

He took a good long look at her, investigating for any other evidence of her indiscretions. Though he didn’t see any, he could still feel the presence of that lipstick mark on her neck. He felt bile rising in his throat. He turned around to regain some sense of control over himself and for good measure he grabbed another bucketful of water and tossed it over her. 

 

The sensation of drowning overtook her once again, but this time she coughed and sputtered for a moment before regaining her ability to breathe. Her whole body shook from how cold he left her and she felt herself hyperventilating. She tried to remember the coping skills she used to teach so often, but found that they all failed her in the face of true danger.

 

This time he was satisfied that everything had been washed away from her. She was so small and frightened. She looked like a blonde rat that had been caught out in the rain. The sight of her so helpless and scared was enough to bring him to half mast even if she hadn’t been completely naked. The fact that she was bare before him almost cost him his self control and made him fuck her then and there, but that wasn’t part of the plan. If he was going to fuck her tonight it was going to be purposeful, not some half-cocked affair.

 

He shrugged his coat off and tossed it across the room. Twisting the jar open, he dipped his knife into it. He made a small production of letting it ping off the sides as he swirled it around in whatever was in that jar. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t crane her neck far enough to see everything he was doing. 

 

When he finally came back to her, knife in hand, she could see it dripping. Without warning, he brought the knife to her ribcage, just diagonal to her breast. She expected him to cut her again. Cutting was something she was used to. Cutting was her new normal. What she did not expect was the immediate, intense burning. She shrieked and arched her back, wailing for help she knew would never come. His free hand held her still with familiar strength. A second pass of the knife brought another fiery wave of agony and he stood back to admire his work. 

 

He knew there was no way he was anything less than completely hard after that. The sight of her body trying to contort in pain reminded him vaguely of how she looked when he fucked her and the familiar ache in his groin seemed to agree.

 

“Isn’t this fun, Harls?” His cackling echoed around her once more. Once he had caught his breath he leaned down close to her ear, ignoring her cries. “Just think, we’re only just getting started. By the time I’m done with you, your little friends will be so revolted they won’t ever touch you again. Wanna see?”   
  
He pulled a floor length mirror over next to the table so she could see the scratchy ‘J’ bubbling up in her flesh, forever labeling her as his once again. He tried to stifle his laughter as he watched her take in her new mark.

 

He dipped his knife into the jar again and made a symmetrical motion on her opposite side. She wondered if she could possibly go into shock from this. Part of her prayed that she would so that the pain would go away, but another part of her knew that if she passed out he would either wait for her to wake up and finish what he was planning on doing or else he would just leave her here until someone else came around to find her. 

 

When he stepped back again he watched her even longer. This was better than any porno he had ever seen and part of him wished that he had brought a camera so that he could watch this again and again. Knowing she was too distracted by her own predicament to be paying attention to him, he rubbed his palm over the front of his pants. He thought to himself how thankful he was that his groan was drowned out by her shrieking. The whole image he was going for here would be shattered if she knew he was getting off on it. 

 

He stood there and watched her writhe in pain for what felt to her like hours. In reality she knew it was probably only a few minutes. When he seemed satisfied by the amount of pain she had endured, he pulled a pair of cloths off a nearby table and pressed them onto her burns. Immediately she felt them cool and the majority of the pain subsided. With a soft kiss to her forehead, he unbuckled the leather strap keeping her head in place. His hands stroked down her body, releasing the straps that held her legs when he got to them.

 

“Now I can finally show you how my new toy works, Harley-girl. Aren’t you excited?!” His own voice was giddy in a way that reminded her of when she had first met him. He had seemed just as excited as she was to be in their sessions. 

 

She looked around the room experimentally and decided that it really might be a dentist’s office or some kind of small doctor’s office. It didn’t look familiar, though she had never been to many doctors with the Joker. He generally preferred to tend his wounds himself or else force her to take care of them, despite her many protests that she wasn’t that kind of doctor.

 

His foot kicked at something at the foot of the table and she felt her weight shift as the table slid apart. Now she was sure this had to be some sort of doctor’s office or at least the table had been stolen from one. His hands pushed her legs as far apart as the table allowed, then bent it upward at her knees. She shivered again, this time because she felt uncomfortably exposed and was unsure what he was planning to do to her.

 

When he had her spread out before him, he bit into his lip with an only-slightly-exaggerated moan. The sight of her really was enough to bring a man to his knees. The skin on her ribs where he had left his initial still rolled like boiling water, but he had tried to take some of the pain away so that he could enjoy fucking her without the distraction of her writhing around and sobbing. For this to work, he needed her to at least somewhat enjoy herself.

 

She still couldn’t see very far, but she could see enough to know that he was adjusting his zipper. Soon enough she felt him thrust into her, tearing in a way she knew would have her bleeding later, but this was something she was used to. Sex with him was never exactly pain-free, even under the best of circumstances and, all things considered, he was being rather gentle with her. His hands gripped her thighs in a way she knew would leave perfect impressions. He always knew how to hold her just right to make his mark. She tried to close her eyes and accept what was happening to her.

 

The feeling of her cunt wrapped around him was the closest to heaven he thought he’d ever get. His scarred hands against the softness of her thighs kept him grounded in her. When he noticed her eyes closed his temper started to rise up again, but he swallowed it back down.

 

“Keep those beautiful eyes open, honey. You never know if this will be the last thing you see.” His hands came up to wrap around her throat, pulling her forward and forcing her to look at him. 

 

He watched her face as she lost grip of her consciousness. She didn’t even fight him anymore. She still struggled to keep herself awake, but he body was still as she accepted that if he wanted her to pass out she was going to pass out. That tiny bit of defiance in her was so unbelievably sexy. 

 

Her consciousness started to slip away from her, leaving her grasping for bits of her senses. She was barely aware of the pain on her ribs anymore, distracted by trying to keep herself awake. The last thing she felt before everything went black was his orgasm and the flush of her cheeks as fluid leaked out from between her thighs.

 

When he noticed she had gone limp he thrust into her a few more times for good measure, enjoying the feeling of her rolling helplessly onto his cock. He removed his hands from her throat and palmed her tits for a moment before pulling out of her and watching as his cum spilled onto the floor. Before he zipped his pants up again he walked back to the head of the table and guided her mouth open. He wiped his soft cock across her tongue and cheek. The sight of her unconscious with his bodily fluids all over her was enough to bring him back to half hardness, but he tucked everything back into his pants and zipped them again anyway.

 

He hummed softly to himself as he walked back across the room. Without her sniveling, he could properly focus on what he was doing. He pulled a syringe from his pocket and injected heavy painkillers into her arm. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake up when he was halfway finished and ruin his work. He waited a few moments then pulled on a pair of thick gloves and grabbed two round gauze pads from the table. 

 

The gauze pads floated in the acid, reminding him of juggling balls. When he pulled them from the jar he almost had a change of heart. Laying there on his table she looked so peaceful, but he had made up his mind. He lifted her eyelids and set them down anyway, watching as her body twitched even though he knew her mind was far away. He let them rest for nearly a minute and when he finally lifted them her skin was deformed underneath them. Her beautiful face morphed into something he hardly recognized around her eyes. He fell more in love with her in that moment than he had ever been before.

 

He took his time unstrapping her from the table and lifting her. Taking a seat on the floor against the wall of the room, he held her in his lap and waited for her to wake up. While she was asleep he talked to her about all the things he never told her when she actually was his shrink. He stroked her hair and kissed her cheeks. 

 

As she lay curled against him he wondered how she would react when she finally did wake up. Surely she would be upset, but what if she pushed him away? The thought of it made the bile rise up in his gut again. Any thought of being without her gave him an immense feeling of terror. It washed over him like tidal waves when he least expected it.

 

When she awoke she could feel warm arms wrapped around her, her head resting against a familiar shoulder. Her eyes felt sore; so did her ribs and just about everywhere else. As she woke more and opened her eyes to look at her companion, she became acutely aware of the fact that they had been open the whole time. Her hands came up to her face, feeling around for whatever must be obstructing her vision. 

 

“Whoa there, pumpkin pie,” the Joker’s voice was a low purr next to her ear, “let me explain.”

 

“You-”

 

“Shhhh,” he placed a finger over her lips, “I said let me explain. I’m sure this is uncomfortable for you. Imagine how uncomfortable it is for me! I’m over here listening to you snore trying to think of how to explain to you that you’re never gonna see again. All the while you’re just snoozing away-”

 

“I’m what?!” She cut him off. Her voice pierced the air and echoed on the walls around them. Under other circumstances she wouldn’t have dreamed of doing such a thing, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She tried to get up and run from him, but crashed into something cold, hard and metal. Her hands hands reached out to feel her way, but found only unfamiliar surfaces. 

 

He smirked as he watched her claw her way around, looking for who-know’s-what. She made all sorts of noise bouncing off walls and furniture, but he watched her in relative silence. He appreciated the look of a naked, vulnerable person hunting for their escape. Even more he appreciated the moment when they realized that they were broken and finally gave in to him. For her, that had come long ago yet for some reason she still insisted on defying him. The thought of her trying to find her way back to someone else without her eyes was enough to send him into a fit of laughter.

 

His cackling laugh bounced around the room as if he were everywhere and nowhere all at once. The sound of his voice, usually the thing she craved the most, now made her skin crawl. She turned all around, as if she thought facing the right direction would somehow allow her to see again. She ran through the same steps for as long as she could stand: Turn around, run, crash into something, rinse, repeat. When she finally collapsed into a heap somewhere in the room that she could only assume was completely trashed by now from all her pawing around. 

 

“That’s enough of that. Let’s go home. I’ve got a surprise for you.” The singsong tone of his voice made bile rise up in the back of her throat.

 

“I think I’ve had enough surprises for tonight, Mistah J,” her head turned in the direction she thought his voice had come from. 

 

Footsteps sounded like they were coming towards her from every direction. She tried to keep herself facing him, but lost track of all the different places she thought he might be. Strong arms lifted her up, carrying her like she was a child. She felt fabric drape over her, grateful that he had covered her up because she had completely forgotten that she was nude. By the silky feeling against her skin and the weight of it, she assumed it was his coat that he had tossed aside earlier. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she inhaled his familiar scent of gunpowder, blood, and Puddin’. Despite the fact that he was solely responsible for her current condition, he was the only one she wanted to seek comfort from.

 

Her clinging to him reminded him of all the reasons why he had decided to do this in the first place. Right now she was completely attached to him, holding on like he were her only lifeline and in fact he might be. Without her makeup he could leave her on the street somewhere and she would just be a blind whore that no one gave a shit about. He could come back and have his way with her every now and then and she would be none the wiser about who he was. As tantalizing as the thought was, he couldn’t imagine actually leaving his girl out in the cold like that. At least when he had let her rot in a cell for a while he had known where to find her when he needed her and had had eyes on her all the time.

 

The rush of wind when they exited the building he had brought her to made her eyes burn. Turning her face even further into him, she rested her head completely on his shoulder. When he set her down on the backseat of a car she felt herself panic at the loss of physical contact. Without her eyes, she needed something to ground her to the real world. She heard her own sigh of relief as his weight came down to the seat beside her. Her hands felt around the seat until they made contact with his thigh. From his thigh she grabbed at him until she was clutching tightly to his elbow. 

 

“Holy-” a new voice, she assumed the driver, exclaimed. She could hear the sound of him trying to hide his retching. For a moment she was grateful she didn’t have to look at her own face. Once again, she turned her face into the Joker’s shoulder. 

 

His temper flared up that someone he was paying had the gall to say something negative about her. Makeup or no, who did he think he was? Weighing in on the Joker’s affairs was a privilege awarded only to those who proved themselves worthy of it. He pulled his gun out and pointed it straight at the man’s temple. 

 

“Now look what you’ve done,” he growled, “You’ve gone and upset my number one girl.” Harley heard the hammer of a gun click and could only assume that the barrel of that gun was now firmly pressed against their driver’s head. She pawed around until her hand found his extended arm and gripped it softly.

 

“Can we please go home first?” Her voice was weak; It felt almost as weak as her legs, arms, and every other part of her. 

 

“You heard the lady,” he barked with a snap of his fingers. She had sounded so pathetic when she asked that he had gone back to half mast and wanted to get her home as soon as possible. Killing this schmuck could wait until then, at least.

 

The feeling of the car tearing around corners was almost soothing for her in a way. She felt like she was floating down a river; A fast, angry, cursing river. When the car finally slammed into park, she heard the door open and clung to her lover’s elbow with both hands. The loud bang next to her told her that the driver’s death had merely been postponed, rather than pardoned. Her ears rang, throwing off her balance even further than it was already. When he took her hand and tried to help her stand she felt as though she was spinning in circles, causing her to crumple back onto the car seat.

 

“Come on, babydoll, I gotcha.” His voice was calm and reassuring, a tone reserved for her.

 

Once she was out of the car, he lead her up the steps into their funhouse, an apartment in a long abandoned building where they had set up shop near the top floor. Other members of his crew usually crashed on the other floors, but they knew better than to knock on his door. Knocking might get them shot. Opening it without knocking would get them blown sky high. She felt the familiar metal grates under her bare feet and winced with each step.

 

“Where are my manners?” he asked expressively before picking her up again.

 

Once they squeezed through the window entrance he had brilliantly constructed without a blind companion in mind, she found herself on the floor once again. The carpet was filthy, but familiar. The whole building reeked of tobacco, cannabis, and crack smoke, but these were the smells of home. 

 

“Ready for your next surprise, pumpkin pie?” His voice was sickly sweet. Her stomach flipped at the sound of his voice, but she was unsure if it was from excitement or nerves. 

 

Hesitantly, she nodded, waiting for what she was sure was inevitable anyway. A squirming burlap sack plopped into her lap from above. Without her eyes, she fumbled looking for the string for quite a while, but was grateful that he let her find it on her own. Once it was untied, two bouncing bundles of fur, one slightly rounder than the other, jumped onto her lap. She could feel floppy ears and wagging tails, tongues licking away at her tearstained cheeks. For the first time all day, she laughed. His cackling laugh rang out in sync with her own. The pups huddled together in her lap let sharp squeals, almost mimicking their laughter. Their little voices were the sweetest thing she had ever heard. 

 

“Think we should name them?” Her voice was shrill with excitement and both pups were still curled up on her lap.

 

“Whatever you want. You’re their mama now, Harls.”

 

“Oh, Puddin’! How about Bud and Lou?” She rubbed their heads as she talked, their little tails never settling down.

 

“Big shoes to fill. I like it. Little comedians already.” 

 

The Joker walked away to handle some business, leaving her with her new little furballs. He was glad he had run across the litter of them in the street while he was out taking his anger out on the city before she was brought back to him. They seemed to be the perfect cure for ‘my-love-just-blinded-me’ blues. Instead of dealing with his business, though, he stood and stared at her for a while.

 

He watched her crawl around the floor, bumping into things occasionally. She was still wearing nothing but his coat and she hadn’t seemed to notice that her whole body was still exposed or she just didn’t care since she couldn’t see for herself. The sight of it was enough to bring his half hard-on back to full. With a slight smirk, he pulled it out of his pants and started to stroke himself while watching her play with her puppies. Such an innocent thing to be doing, even though she was far from innocent. The burn scars on her face gave her skin an angry flush and her eyes were open but clouded over, like someone had spilled milk in her pupils. In that moment, she was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. She never even noticed that he was watching her and jerking himself off. What finally sent him tumbling over the edge was seeing her on all fours directly in front of him, her cunt still glistening with his fluids from the night before. He bit into his own knuckles as he came on the floor in front of him, then walked off to actually  take care of some business.

 

She stayed there on the floor playing with her new friends for the rest of the afternoon. They seemed to know that she couldn’t see them and kept themselves close enough so she could feel them or made sharp noises to help her find them. 

 

While she played with her babies, the Joker snuck away into another room to put together some care packages. One for each of the people who had thought they could keep her from him: Ivy and the bat. Each small box was rigged to pop confetti in the opener’s face and contained only a polaroid of Harley, unconscious and with her face burned, laying on a table. The sight of it made his dick twitch, but he was too spent to possibly get hard again so soon. On the back of each picture his scratchy handwriting read, “Now she only has eyes for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to warn you. <3


End file.
